Would it be too dramatic to say that I was almost killed during my trip from Buenos Aires to Mendoza this afternoon? Never mind, I can hear the collective sighs followed by a resounding YES. Bitches. Well, after nine excruciating hours I finally arrived in San Rafael, Mendoza. My travel companion was as interesting and entertaining as a box of hair. But I am known for being a bit of a princess. The house I am staying in is… well… let’s just say that I’ve had better living arrangements in a shanty town in Moshi, Tanzania. But I digress, it has one redeeming quality, the pool.
It’s hot. Like you want to drown yourself hot, but don’t worry — although many of you look forward to my Whitney-like demise — I did not commit suicide. How else would I have been able to write this? Morons. Forgive me for the name-calling, I’ve had a long day. The thunder is crackling outside, but it’s been doing that all day and not a drop of precipitation has met the searing concrete. The neighbours arrived not soon after me and turned on their sprinklers, which was confusing in light of the storm clouds overhead. They obviously knew something I was unaware of. That Mendoza is as dry as a porteño in bar. Fun it does not make.
Each night I’ll write a recap of my day’s activities with photographic evidence. Today’s journey was to the centre of the pool. Not the most exciting adventure, but refreshing. Also, there is a dog out on the road that has it in for me. If by any chance you never hear from me again, tell authorities that a white dalmatian (no spots!) almost mauled me while closing the front gate this evening.
Maybe tomorrow… maybe.